Warriors
by Thug-4-Less
Summary: A story of those who will not go quietly into the night but will rage against the dying of the light.
1. Chapter 1

Claire Marie set the wheel barrow down and wiped her brow with a sweat-damp cloth she had wrapped around a handle. She looked up at the late afternoon sky and sighed. It would be dark soon, especially since the hills rising to either side of the town meant night fell far too quickly, and being out after dark was even less intelligent than it had been a year ago. She looked around at the other scavengers. Old Harry and his son, Todd, were hauling timber out of the broken doors of the Home Depot. Mary and Tim were using shopping carts to gather more supplies from the supermarket. There were a dozen more people raiding the various stores in the shopping center but Claire didn't see anyone else. Armed lookouts, all cradling some form of hunting rifle, guarded the route everyone took to their "home".

_Home_, Claire thought forlornly,_ Goddamnit! How'd it come to this?_

But Claire knew how it had happened. She knew how she had come to live in a goddamned hotel. Claire would never forget how the world had ended. Of course it had taken her, and nearly everyone else, a long time to come to terms with it.

The dead had risen last summer and it had taken all of two weeks for humanity to fold.

Clair had been driving on an interstate passing through West Virginia on her way to California when the first reports had come over the radio. She had ignored them, she had stopped taking the media seriously long before that, and driven through the night. She had stopped at a five-story hotel in the late afternoon. It was located at the top of a hill in the corner of a shopping center. The view was nice and that was why she had decided to stop after getting gas.

Claire had been awakened the following morning by horrible screams. People had been running through the halls as crazy, blood-covered maniacs chased them down. So she had done the only sensible thing. Claire had bolted her door and waited for the cops to show up. She had sat in that room for two days, with no food and the only water coming from the tap, before someone had knocked on the door. Claire had cried with relief as she fumbled open the locks.

_Wish I _had_ died_, she thought bitterly.

"Zombies!"

The warning was high and shrill. It sounded like Doris and was coming from the hunting and sporting goods place near the entrance to the shopping center. Shambling figures rose into view in the road, maybe five of them, and they screeched as soon as they saw the humans. Each broke into ugly sprints before being shot multiple times. The men were good, they had cleared the town during the winter, but it still took far too many shots to hit a zombie in the head.

"Eat that, you dead _fucks_!" one of the men, probably Kyle, shouted and thirty zombies rose over the hill.

The lead zombies ran at the vulnerable scavengers and the armed men took off running to the hotel. They didn't take a shot or give the scavengers a second glance. Doris, young but somehow still overweight despite the rationing they had been doing, managed three plodding strides before the zombies were on her. Claire could only stare in shock at all the blood. She had never seen someone being murdered before, had never thought she'd see a human being eaten alive a year ago, and even from a hundred feet away the blood was sickening. Doris' screams seemed to never end as the other scavengers ran past Claire to the hotel. It was uphill, at least a quarter mile, and Claire knew that most of them would never make it. None of them were in the best of shape after holing up in the hotel all winter, eating rationed junk food from the supermarket, and somehow a group of these zombies were running like the ones in the first days.

No one tried to get Claire as they fled in sheer panic.

One zombie was much faster than the others. It had been a tall, skinny man once. Now the thing had a huge gap in its throat and was covered in long dried blood. The tattered remains of its clothes fluttered as it ran at her.

A figured slipped around Claire's back to stand in front of her. He was short, her height maybe, but wide. A small pack was on his back with a fancy crossbow strapped to the top.

_Why doesn't he use it?_

The zombie launched itself at Claire's guardian. The mysterious person, with eerie grace, stepped aside, and suddenly clutched something in his hand. When the zombie spun around, the stranger stabbed upward with a...spear through the zombie's lower jaw. The zombie's feet rose an inch off the ground with the force of the blow. Without concern for the mass of approaching zombies, the man removed the short spear weapon and raised an arm high. He made several sharp motions and Claire's new world was radically changed.

The man held his arm high as several long shapes flashed over Claire's head in the blink of an eye. Then several more were passing over before the first group made contact.

_Oh my god,_ Claire thought in astonishment,_ They're arrows!_

The arrows in question had been aimed low and all had stuck in some part of a zombie's leg. Claire didn't know much about archery but those arrows reduced the faster zombies to crawling across the ground dragging useless limbs behind them. At least twenty arrows were fired and every single one downed a zombie. Claire, watching the surreal events unfold with an intensity that was not something she usually possessed, noticed that some zombies had shorter shafts protruding from their heads as they fell. The man, his back still to her, lowered his arm and the arrows stopped.

With smooth, deceptively quick motions, the man removed his backpack and the crossbow on top. He gently set the pack down and aimed the crossbow similarly to the way the men held their rifles. The lead zombie, still big despite having half of his torso eaten away, stumbled towards the man with low, piteous groans. There was an almost inaudible snap and the zombie fell silently to his knees before dropping face first to the ground.

The man lowered his crossbow to rest atop his pack as a towering figure breezed past Claire's right side. This stranger was well over six feet tall and even wider than the first man. He didn't have a pack but instead carried an enormous hammer. At the other end of the long shaft was a large knob of metal. The two men stood together, maybe five feet separating them, and waited for the zombies. The shorter man began hopping in place and stretching his arms while his larger companion stood statue-still.

When the first zombie shuffled within ten feet, the smaller man sprinted forward with astonishing speed. The larger man fell into step behind him but couldn't keep up with as his smaller companion smashed something into the side of the first zombie's head. Congealed blood burst from the zombie's cranium and the monster fell towards the ground. The man spun with the blow and thrust the spear in his other hand up through the zombie's neck.

It was like watching an action movie on speed. The man's movements were too fast to follow, especially as he was in the process of tearing a way through the pack of zombies. Not all of the zombies he struck were dealt fatal blows but the giant finished any that tried to rise in the human tornado's wake. What struck Claire as surreal, well more than everything in the last year of her life, was that the entire fight was nearly silent. The men barely made a sound, she assumed they were breathing hard from their exertion, but whatever noise they made wasn't loud enough to be heard over the moans and screeches of the zombies. Even the impact of their weapons on putrid flesh seemed muted.

Soon, far sooner than Claire would have thought possible, the only figures standing were the two men. They met in the middle of the carnage and, since it was disturbingly quiet, Claire could hear the sound of their light panting.

"Well fought, brother," the giant said and clasped the padded forearm of his companion.

The smaller man nodded and neither noticed the broken zombie rearing up to bite the giant's ankle.

"Watch out!" Claire shouted for all she was worth but it was too late.

The zombie bit down and began thrashing its head, the last part of its body that was mobile, and Claire winced in anticipation of the man's scream. Instead there was a sharp crack, almost like a nut, and she opened her eyes to find the giant kicking the smashed skull around. Then, to Claire's horror, he squatted to root around in the gory mess. Her gaze drifted to the smaller fighter only to find his shadowed gaze on her. The man was wearing a helmet, thin and soft-looking, with a strange plastic piece that covered everything except the space between brow-ridge and the top of his nose. The distance, and the waning light, hid his eyes but Claire got the distinct impression the man was studying her.

"Hello," a soft voice spoke from her left as several people sprinted past her to the plaza entrance.

Claire jumped half a foot into the air but managed to stifle her scream mid-breath. She turned and found herself looking into wide, dark brown eyes. It was a woman, a girl really, who couldn't have been older than seventeen. The first thing Claire noticed was that her hair was cut so close that she was nearly bald. Number two was that, despite the girl's dazzling grin, the intensity in her too-wide eyes frightened Claire.

"I'm Athena. I'm glad you're okay," the girl said, talking so fast that Claire barely understood a word.

The girl was skinny, almost sickeningly so, but the way she stood made it seem like she could move at a moment's notice with the grace of a ballerina. She wore what looked like a cross between a football player's gear and medieval armor. The gray-green shoulder pad and torso protector were definitely football gear, but her midriff was protected by a what looked like a hard leather corset. Her arms and legs were covered in segmented pieces of hard material kept in place with straps and buckles. Knees and elbows were covered in pads that looked as though they had been shaved down and coated in hard plastic.

Clutched idly in one hand was a hunting bow and in the other was an arrow with an oddly-shaped arrowhead. The head of a hatchet, with a smoothly rounded back, rested against her right hip. Somehow the metal had been blackened so that it didn't reflect the light. On the opposite hip rested a shaft with a metal knob on top but the end resting on her leg was a spearhead-shaped pouch.

_Holy shit! How is she even standing with all that crap on?!_

"Hey," the girl put an arrow in the holder beside the spear and gently touched Claire's shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"Athena? You've gotta be joking!"

_Ohmygod! _Clair clapped a hand over her mouth, _Why did I say that?!_

But the girl's scary grin only got wider, "No, not really. Silly, I know. Listen, The People need a place to stay and that Home Depot looks like a worthy place. Who do I talk to about squatting for a couple of days?"

Claire had to concentrate hard to keep up with the girl's rapid-fire speech, "Boss Richardson."

_Who am I to talk about _her_ stupid ass name?_

Athena nodded, "Good. Can you bring him down here. We'll secure the area."

Claire nodded slowly as she turned to watch the short man prying in a zombie's mouth with a knife.

"What's he doing?" Claire whispered to herself without even realizing it.

"Achilles?" Athena spoke as if Claire had shouted, "Collecting battle-trophies. See?" The girl reached into her chest protector and drew out a string with a dozen irregularly shaped white pieces hanging from it. "You only get to take them from those you give the Second Death, but if you assist then the warrior you helped can give one to you."

_Those..._ Claire swallowed, _Those are _teeth_._

Claire began running up to the hotel as fast as she could to get away from the lunatics and the low sound of Athena's laughter followed her the entire way.


	2. Chapter 2

Claire Marie stumbled up to the barricaded entrance of the Comfort Inn and Suites. They had blocked the main entrance with a semicircle of cars and filled the interior of the circle with heavy furniture so the zombies couldn't attack the automated doors in large numbers. She squeezed between two dirt-encrusted sedans and wove her way through the fastest route to the doors by memory. It was nearly a hundred feet and, already exhausted from the run up the hill, Claire stumbled to her knees a dozen feet from the open doors.

Boss Richardson and six men stood behind chest-high, makeshift, wooden barricades. They were dressed in woodland camouflage hunting gear and armed with a combination of hunting rifles and shotguns. Richardson, a big man with a reddish-brown beard, pointed his rifle at her.

"Speak!" he barked into the quiet.

"Don't-" Claire's voice broke with harsh coughing, "Don't shoot!"

"Claire!" Richardson shouted and the glee in his voice made Claire sick.

Richardson leapt over the barricade and rushed to Claire's side. He roughly hauled her to her feet and began pawing at her to check for bites. She struggled to catch her breath and then struggled out of his clutches when his hands started to stray. Richardson's eyes narrowed and he took a menacing step forward.

"Wait," Claire took a flinching step away, "Strangers saved me!"

Richardson's dark blue eyes narrowed, "The army? We didn't hear any gunshots."

Claire shook her head, inwardly sighing with relief at having deflected his attention, "Not the army! These guys are crazy! They want to stay in the Home Depot for a few days. Their leader wants to talk to you."

"Slow down, damnit!" Richardson removed the walkie-talkie from his belt. "Bobby, peep the Home Depot. What do we got? Over."

The reply came a few moments later, "There's three or four strangers wearing _weird_ costumes over by the plaza entrance. I can't see anyone else but a bunch of bodies layin' around. Wait, somebody's on the roof... holy shit!" There was a sound like crunching paper before Bobby started talking again. "There's a little bastard up on the roof with a sniper rifle! He was lookin' right at me!"

"Calm your ass down!" Richardson snapped, taking his hunting cap off and running his walkie hand through a balding head of graying red-brown hair. He raised the walkie again, "Get all the sharpshooters to cover the Depot. I'm takin' Rick and Jake down to see who these guys are. Over."

"I'm on it. Over."

Richardson turned to the men covering the "killing yard" as they liked to call it, "Rick, Jake, get your asses out here. We've got strangers to charm. Maybe they've got some fine ass with 'em."

Boss Richardson' flunkies trotted out through the newly opened gap in the barricade. Rick was tall and skinny while Jake was the same height but heavier. All three were cousins and shared the same coloring. Richardson slapped Claire on the ass, it hurt as bad as it sounded, and grinned at her.

"Go get some rest. I'll be needin' you tonight."

"Did Doris make it?" Jake asked with an odd gleam in his eyes. Claire shook her head and the man shrugged. "She was fat but damned good on her back."

"Cut the crap! Let's go!" Richardson barked and his men started moving.

Claire moved through the barricade and was immediately swarmed by all twenty-seven "peons", as Richardson and his "Dirty Dozen" called the women, children and one old man they had gathered together.

"Move that shit to the dining area!" Buddy, a swarthy, pig-eyed flunkie shouted.

There was a general rush across the bare lobby, around the elevators, and into a good-sized dining area. The floor was littered with garbage but no one cared anymore. They sat Claire down at the long table and began shouting questions at her.

"Shut up!" a voice cracked as the woman bellowed to be heard over the mob.

A busty brunette woman shouldered her way through the group with glares and muttered curses. She slammed a bottle of water down in front of Claire. Claire drank half the bottle before putting it back down. The woman, Daisy, fixed calm brown eyes on her.

"Now, tell us what happened, darlin'," Daisy said in a thick Virginian accent.

Once Claire started talking she couldn't stop. Sometime during her tale the bottle was emptied. No one replaced it, their supply of bottled water was getting almost as low as their food, and Claire didn't ask for another.

"And now Boss-" it was a struggle not to gag on that word, "Richardson is going down to meet the leader."

There was a moment of silence before Sally, all of twelve years old, asked, "Is she really a goddess?"

"No, darlin'," Daisy answered, "That's just a silly name."

"Hell," Old Harry grumbled, "She might think she is."

"How big was he, Claire? Big like a wrestler?" someone she couldn't see shouted.

Claire nodded, "Yeah."

Then the questions really started and Claire couldn't even respond to any single one. She found that her voice wasn't needed. People began arguing with other people's ludicrous suggestions. So Claire leaned back in the uncomfortable chair and dozed off. It seemed as though her eyes had only been closed a second before something shifted the table with a bang.

Claire sat erect as the ground went quiet.

"Glad to see we've got your attention," Richardson's voice came from the end of the table near the elevators.

Claire, and everyone else, only had eyes for the deer that Richardson and his men had thrown on the table. They hadn't had fresh meat for months, they'd eaten all the frozen stuff weeks ago, and they stared in disbelief. Richardson had said the woods were crawling with zombies and it was too dangerous to hunt.

"Well, stop staring, damnit," Richardson snapped and the nervousness in his voice made Claire raise her eyes from the freshly killed deer.

Richardson, Rick, and Jake all stood in front of the table covered in sweat. They were all red in the face but their expressions were nervous.

_It looks like they're about to piss their pants._

"Lucy, Ethel, Claire, come with me. The rest of you get this thing butchered up."

The group fell on the deer carcass as though they were a school of piranha. They lifted it off the table, with more than a few moans of delight, and carried it off to the kitchen. They left behind three woman and Claire was among them, much to her disappointment.

"C'mon," Richardson said, and led them to a stairwell past the exercise room to the right of the elevator.

It was an indicator of how upset the man was that he didn't try to grope, kiss, or screw one of them before he got to the second floor. In Claire's opinion they were the most attractive women in the group. Lucy was only a couple inches shy of six feet, most of that height in a pair of shapely legs, and she had a face to die for. Ethel was only slightly shorter than Lucy, had an unreal C-cup, and eyes a dazzling shade of green. Claire was probably the least attractive of the trio. She was 5'4", slender, and had a heart-shaped face. Her best features were her hazel eyes and a killer ass, at least that's what her sleazy ex-boyfriend had always told her.

_Why does he want just us?_ Claire thought worriedly, past events coming to mind, as they walked down a quiet hallway dimly lit by blue-white emergency lighting.

Richardson led them to a room at the end of the hall. The electronic lock had been smashed and Richardson stomped into one of his rooms. The curtains were thrown open and the window had a view of the plaza. He left the door open and Claire meekly closed it behind her as she entered last. Richardson threw his cap on the end table by the window and leaned against the frame. Claire and the others waited near the king-sized bed, none of them looking at the stained sheets, while Richardson looked out of the window.

"I need you three to go down there and get inside the Depot," Claire, Lucy, and Ethel looked at each other with wide eyes but remained silent. "I need to know how many of them there are, what kind of weapons they got, how many women, everything." Richardson turned to them with crazy eyes. "I don't care if ya have to screw every guy in there to find out. Just do whatever they say. Tell 'em I sent ya as a welcome gift. Get some outfits out of the closet. Hurry up, it's gettin' dark."

Claire glared at Richardson while the other two scampered to do his bidding.

"I'm not a whore and you're not my pimp!" she hissed at him.

"You screwed _me_ fast enough," Richardson shot back as he took a single step closer.

"That's different," Claire mumbled, bowing her head.

"Whatever," he stepped even closer, "Listen, ya little bitch, the rule's still the same. I say suck, you get down or you get put out for the zombies. Try me and it'll be your ass getting chucked down the hill like Jay and Rachel. So... put your shit on and get your ass down to those crazy bastards down the hill."

Claire turned and began rummaging through the pile of crap in the closet. She quickly selected an outfit and the three women filed into the bathroom to change. Once they were dressed, Lucy and Ethel began applying enough makeup for a circus, while Claire glared at her image in the mirror.

_You weak, stupid,_ fuck_! Letting that bastard order you around. Bad enough you let him screw you. Damnit!_

"Maybe some of them'll be nice," Lucy said, stepping back to admire herself.

"Yeah, maybe they'll know how to screw," Ethel chimed in, checking her fishnets.

_We all smell like shit and haven't had showers or baths in weeks. I'm amazed anyone _would_ have sex with us._

Lucy and Ethel were dressed in identical outfits. Red tube-tops, black miniskirts, fishnet stockings, and black high heels. Both wore too much of every kind of makeup. They were almost as bad as the t.v. characters they were named for. Claire had gone with black tights, a floral wrap, and a white, sleeveless T-shirt.

_Fuck 'em, anyway._

But _Boss_ Richardson didn't say a word as he hurried them back downstairs. Someone whistled from an upstairs window as Richardson led them to the edge of the hotel parking lot.

"Don't come back. I'll send someone for you in the morning."

Then they were alone and facing a long walk in heels.

_Damnit._


	3. Chapter 3

The entire valley was deep in shadow by the time they made it down to the Home Depot. The strangers had stacked the bodies across the main entrance to create an improvised and very disgusting barricade. Even the stray pieces of garbage left behind by the locals scavenging had been cleaned up. It was somewhat disconcerting for Claire to walk through a clear space that had been garbage strewn since the snow had melted.

Claire's palms were sweaty and her face felt hot despite a cool breeze. Her two companions seemed supremely confident but they hadn't looked into any of the lunatics eyes. That was going to change quickly though because there were two people standing in front of the main entrance. Behind them was what looked like a solid mountain of junk.

The person on the left, it was hard to tell what sex they were with that weird helmet, was big and held a spear taller than they were with innate malice. The person on the right was none other than Athena. The girl was still wearing the same smile as the trio walked up.

Before any of them could utter a syllable, Athena was speaking, " Let me guess. Your Boss wanted to offer you as a welcome gift? Well, that's sweet, but we'll have to decline."

Lucy and Ethel shared a look while Claire wilted inside with relief.

_Better the asshole I know._

"Well," Lucy said, a barely concealed sneer on her face, "What does _he_ say?"

In answer, the statue growled like a rabid dog and Lucy took a step backwards.

"But," Ethel sounded near tears, "It's getting dark."

"Aw, it is," Athena raised her head, "Hector, Artemis, get down here for an escort run!"

_I suppose there's a Hercules, too. Jesus._

Claire hadn't noticed the knotted ropes hanging from the roof but she did when two people scampered down them like squirrels. Faster than she would have thought possible they were walking to Athena's side. Artemis was a little over six feet tall, had shapely hips, and swayed to great effect so it was easy to tell who she was. Hector was about the same height but with a slightly heavier build. He moved with an easy grace that reminded her of a gay stripper she had once known.

Hector started making all sorts of gestures with his fingers and it took a second for Claire to realize it was sign language. Athena replied in kind and laughed when he made a single, sharp gesture.

"These two'll take you back. Don't try talking to them. It's like talking to a pair of grumpy walruses."

Then Athena's smile disappeared and her face went stony as she produced a helmet and quickly put it on.

"Oh my _God_," Lucy stamped her foot in irritation and stormed off towards the hotel with her arms folded under her breasts.

Ethel followed and Claire was turning to do the same when a hand gently grabbed her arm. She turned to find one of the weirdos had appeared out of nowhere. He was making signs at Athena and for a long time they communicated in total silence. Claire was about to snatch her arm away when the man let go and turned to her.

"You can stay," he spoke slowly in a rough voice. "I am Achilles."

Up close, Claire discovered that he was taller than her first impression. Maybe 5'6", but his width made him seem shorter. Claire turned to find that Lucy and Ethel had never even looked back. It was a stinging reminder that Claire herself was an outsider in the group. The rest of them were locals but never had the line between them been so clear. When she turned around Athena and the unnamed psycho were climbing the front of the Home Depot.

"If you want guest-right," Achilles said, walking backwards to the nearest climbing rope, "-then you have to earn it with a climb. If you can not make it then I will personally take you back."

Achilles turned, pulled the rope taut, and quickly began climbing. It almost looked like he was running up the wall. The climb looked hard as hell and they all managed it with ease.

_I should just turn around. For all I know they'll fucking eat me. I _know _what Richardson will do._

That thought made her lurch towards the knotted rope as though she had just risen from the dead. She imitated what Achilles had done and found that it _was_ as hard as she had thought it would be. Halfway up, her arms were burning and her legs felt like water. Sweat started dripping off her nose and she raised her head to find Achilles staring down at her. He had removed his helmet to reveal a broad, hard-jawed face under a close-cropped head of black hair. His eyes were almond-shaped, nearly feminine, and blacker than night. Achilles was the first black person she'd seen in months but what came as a greater shock was the intense set of his features. Without a word, he extended his left arm down to her. There it stayed, his eyes locked on hers, and Claire suddenly got the feeling that he would wait like that all night if he had to.

"Come," Achilles said very softly, but the word came to her with crystal clarity.

Claire found herself gritting her teeth and really pushing her physical limits for perhaps the first time in her entire life. She reached up and a hand, seemingly molded from iron, grabbed the offered appendage. Another hand took a firm grasp on her wrist.

"Watch the wall."

Then Achilles was pulling Claire up with startling speed. Her feet scrabbled for purchase on the wall and then her chest was level with the edge of the roof. Achilles was standing on the low wall encircling the roof with the sure-footed confidence of a goat. Claire put her hand on the wall and pulled her left leg up. Once she had both knees on the wall, Achilles hopped backwards, but kept a grip on her hand. Claire carefully slid onto the Home Depot's roof and shifted onto her butt with a shuddery sigh of relief.

"Well done. What is your name?" Achilles asked, his dark face enigmatic as he stood over her.

"Claire Marie," Achilles nodded and something peevish sprang from Claire's mind. "Why didn't you ask me that before that damn climb?"

To her disgust, Claire immediately ducked her head in anticipation of a blow. When none came she looked up to see a tiny smile grace Achilles' stony face.

"The climb was to determine if you were worthy of guest-right. Once deemed worthy then, and only then, is your name worth knowing, Claire Marie."

Claire stood slowly and stared at Achilles as though he were a snake turned into a man.

"Well, what about Athena?" Claire looked around for the girl and found that she had disappeared.

There were four people on the roof but their shapes were blurred by the waning light.

"Liaisons to Others are not allowed to claim guest-rights if they are acting in that role. So it is acceptable if they ask Others they're names in order to better facilitate trading. Are you hungry?" Claire nodded, "Follow me."

Achilles turned and walked towards a door near the center of the roof. He moved with a weird, methodical, flowing walk that was vaguely feminine. The doorway was open and had the appearance of a yawning mouth of darkness. Achilles entered without hesitation and waited for Claire to catch up.

"The way down is dark and there is a turn," he said, offering her a gloved hand.

Claire took it and felt rigid pieces of something inside Achilles glove. He led her into the darkness with gentle, irresistible strength.

"Place your hand on the wall ahead of you. You will feel the turn."

Claire did as she was instructed and did feel the wall end abruptly thanks to Achilles slow pace. They carefully turned on the landing before making their way down a small stairwell. They came to a metal door and Achilles knocked twice.

"Achilles, son of David, son of Margaret," Achilles said in such a way that his voice filled the stairwell.

The door opened just enough for Achilles, weapons and all, to slip through. Claire went with him and blinked at the double-barrels of a sawed-off shotgun pointed at her head. A man stood there in similar attire to Athena, Achilles, and pretty much every person she'd met in their party. The man had a nasty scar that ran beneath the eyepatch on the left side of his face. A woman stood beside the man with a pump-action shotgun aimed at Achilles. The stock looked shaved and the barrel too short but what the hell did she know about guns anyway. The woman looked Hispanic, but she might have been black, the light wasn't bright enough to tell.

"Has she come into contact with Risen?" the man asked, his weapon held steady.

"No."

At the one word from Achilles, the man and woman bowed their heads before they stepped aside. Achilles let Claire's hand go and walked past them without a word. Claire did the same but stopped to stare in gap-jawed disbelief at what she was seeing. The room was pretty big and lined with lockers. Some kind of blue-green rods were scattered in the corners and throughout the room to provide illumination. Four of the rods were the compass points in a circle that Ajax stood in the middle of.

The giant was completely naked.

Ajax was as pale as snow, bald like Achilles, and made entirely of hard muscle. He stood with his legs spread and his arms raised to shoulder height. Athena stood with a shiny revolver pointed at Ajax's torso while a small figure circled the big man.

"What are they _doing_?" Claire asked Achilles as she stepped to where he had been waiting for her.

"It is the Rite of Entry. Any person who engages in battle with Risen must be checked before they are allowed access to the People."

"He's fine," the tiny person said, and Claire was shocked at how young the voice sounded.

"How old is he?" And on the heels of that thought followed, "But I saw him get bit!"

"HawkEye? _She_ is sixteen." Achilles turned to her as they walked down the flight of stairs opposite the door to the roof stairwell. "We don't wear all this crap because we like to. Okay, most of us do not."

Claire snorted with laughter and clapped a hand over her mouth. Achilles turned to her with an utterly devastating smile.

"The walls are thick. Laugh as much as you want."

Claire came to the bottom of the stairs and face-to-face with a forklift. She was amazed that it still had enough juice to run. To either side of the wide entryway were tall sets of cabinetry with a pair of people squatting in front of it eating out of metal bowls. She had no idea what it was all for but before she could ask Achilles they came around the forklift. What she saw then planted Claire's feet while her eyes widened painfully.

Somehow, in the hour or so the "People" had been there, there was now a huge square cleared out in the center of the Home Depot. Inside of the square were at least thirty people. Most of them were gathered around sunken pits from which the orange-red glow of fire came from. The smell of roasting meat came to Claire and she took a step forward as the demands of her stomach overrode her shock.

Achilles grabbed her arm and pulled her back as a small group of people sprinted past her with a thin, muscular, white man yelling at them _while_ maintaining their pace.

"Remember! Speed is _life_! Now-" the man paused to suck in breath, _"Run! Run!_"

"Who the hell's that?" Claire asked, watching as the small group turned the corner to their right.

"Shaka. He is the best runner we have and a Leader."

"Okay," Claire nodded in total incomprehension.

Achilles led Claire towards the central fire, the largest, where a hunk of meat was slowly turning on a rough-looking spit. The smell was making her mouth water indecently. A man and a woman monitored the roasting meat. A long table stood on the other side of the fire and huge platters of still smoking meat decorated it. Tiny, metal bowls stood beside each platter. A big pot of steaming soup was sitting on the other side of the platters.

Before they reached the table, a dark-skinned woman with a red dot between her brows was just... _there_ in front of them.

"Claire Marie," Claire jumped because she hadn't realized that no one was actually speaking. The only sounds were the soft, barely audible movements of a group of unnaturally quiet people and the crackles of fire as well as roasting meat.

"Get up! You worthless piece of shit!"

_Well, Shaka definitely isn't quiet._

"Grab a bowl, some meat, dip the bowl in the soup. We have no utensils for eating. I will be right there."

Claire slid around the Indian woman as she began speaking to Achilles in sign language. She followed Achilles instructions and was munching on the chewy meat when the man stepped quietly to her side. He passed her a bottle of water, she had to put her meat in the thick vegetable soup, and took a drink of the oddly flavored water.

"Xena challenged me to a sparring match. I have accepted. This way."

_Damn. Does this guy know how to say please?_

Claire followed Achilles to an area clear of fire-pits. It was a much larger version of the glow-rod circle upstairs. A dozen rods lined this circle and people were already starting to gather. Athena came up to them grinning like a clown with twinkling brown eyes.

"Xena still trying to kick your ass?" Athena nodded toward the dark-skinned woman windmilling her arms in the ring.

Achilles nodded and began handing his weapons to Athena. The grin never left the girl's face as she took the short spear and hatchet-thing. A man, nearly as tall if nowhere near as muscular as Ajax, handed Achilles an identical set. Achilles took them with a nod and strode into the ghostly ring.

"Are they going to kill each other?" Claire asked, turning to Athena.

"Oh, no," Athena answered without turning, "The edges are blunt. If they were beginners the weapons would be wood but those two are the best Warrior-Hunters among the People. That's why their Warrior-Hunter names are Achilles and Xena. Of course, I said she should go with Boudicca or Shiva, but she just looked at me funny. You ever watch the show?"

Claire nodded, "Hell, I almost went to a stupid convention."

"Me, too!" Athena grinned at Claire, "Well, _our_ Xena makes that one seem like a Care Bear. Oh, they're about to start."

Claire turned back to see that the ring was surrounded by spectators. Shaka and his group were on the opposite side of the ring glistening with sweat. She felt someone come up behind her and turned to look up at Ajax. The colossus acted as though he hadn't seen her and stared into the ring.

Claire turned back to see Achilles and Xena circling each other with the tips of their short spears merely inches away from each other. Then Xena flicked Achilles spear-tip to the side and lunged forward. Claire gasped, and she was the only one who made a sound the entire fight, when Achilles ducked beneath the stab with barely an inch to spare. He rose with a thrust to her sternum. Xena spun around the blow and tried to club Achilles in the back with the blunt end of her hatchet-thing. Achilles counterspun to avoid the hit and attacked with a flurry of astonishingly quick strikes.

Then it was just like the last time Claire had seen Achilles fight. The movements were too fast, too fluid, for her to really keep track. If they had actually stood in one spot for more than a second or actually blocked an attack it might have been different. But the two were all over the ring in a whirlwind of strikes, counters, and last minute dodges. It was absolutely incredible.

Suddenly Xena was on the floor, one hand clutching her stomach, while Achilles held the point of his spear at her neck.

"Achilles," Athena said, but not as if she were calling him.

When Ajax repeated the name with Athena Claire knew what they were doing.

_I can't believe they're chanting his name!_

Achilles helped Xena to her feet and leaned over to whisper something in her ear. Then he raised the spear and got instant quiet.

"Xena," Achilles began and soon everyone was chanting her name.

Claire drank some soup to keep from laughing crazily.

_I'm in Wonderland. I hate rabbits._


	4. Chapter 4

Claire stared into the mesmerizing glow of the fire-pit and tried to lose herself in the strange, voiceless atmosphere that the even stranger "People" seemed to ooze from every pore. She had heard the capital letter in the word and, despite how diverse the nationality makeup of the group was, they acted like they were some sort of exiled nation of warriors out of a damned fantasy movie. It was weird and oddly comforting at the same time.

Achilles sat next to her, the thin blanket they shared barely better than the floor, slowly drinking the last of his stew. Xena sat on her other side, sharpening the blade of her hatchet with a small block of something dull, and stared off into space. Ajax and Athena sat on the other side communicating in sign language.

Then Athena stood and quickly began removing her armor. First came the shoulder-pads and chest protector. She _was_ wearing a hard corset beneath her chest protector and that came off just as quickly. Athena stacked her arm- and leg-guards neatly beside her blanket. She was wearing a black, skintight, body-suit beneath her armor and it made her ass look great. She had a small bust, maybe slightly larger than an A-cup, but it only served to accentuate the slim, elegant lines of her body. There was a sense of strength, nobility even, about Athena that was not dimmed in the slightest when she began to slide the body-suit down.

"Uhm, what are you doing?" Claire croaked, looking away, directly into Achilles' stoic expression.

"Getting naked. Duh," Athena said quite cheerfully.

Claire heard Xena stand and turned to find that she was removing her armor now. So was Ajax... in fact, everywhere she looked people were getting naked.

"Come with me," Achilles said, standing and heading towards the stairs to the roof access room.

Claire stared at Achilles' back and tried to ignore the low moans that were beginning to come from every direction. Achilles led her back to the break room, at least she guessed that was what it used to be, which was empty except for the pair guarding the door. The scary duo didn't turn, just sat on either side of the door facing each other, and slowly ate their stew. Achilles headed towards a door lit up by a pair of glow-sticks at the base. They stepped into a small office, bare of furnishings, illuminated by a single stick. Achilles slid to the floor in the farthest corner of the room. Claire wrinkled her nose at the smell. She had never been in this part of the store and it smelled like someone had met a gruesome end here. There were several smears on the wall but oddly none on the floor.

"She died on her desk," Achilles answered her unspoken questions, "If you're careful then you can kill an aged Risen with little bloodletting. Sit."

Claire made a face but sat on the floor against the wall a few feet to his left.

"They should be done in an hour or so. Then we can go back," Achilles fixed her with a strange look, "Unless you'd like to sleep up here. I would have to as well though, because I vouched for you." Claire flinched involuntarily and Achilles' eyes narrowed slightly. "I will sleep in an opposite corner and I swear I will not harm you or allow harm to come to you."

Claire stared at the man with, she could tell by the way Achilles looked at her, a severely dumbstruck expression. It took a minute but eventually she regained enough brains to nod.

"I'd like to sleep up here then."

"I'll be right back," Achilles got to his feet, so quickly he had a spring in his ass, and was out the door in a flash.

Claire leaned against the wall, anxiety making her sweat just a little, and felt like she would have if she _had_ been planning on sleeping with Achilles.

_Ha! Wouldn't that just piss Mom off?_

The thought of her mother, Claire prayed to God that she was dead and not a walking corpse, brought a spasm of pain to her. She clutched her stomach and started quietly sobbing. She had no idea how long she was on the floor crying but as soon as she stopped Achilles appeared. He carried cutout sections of rug under one arm and two sleeping bags under the other. Wordlessly, he set the rugs down in separate corners, away from the doorway, and placed the sleeping bags on top of them. Claire calmly crawled over to her own and rolled onto her back with her hands behind her head. She heard Achilles shuffling around and raised her head to see him removing his armor down to the body-suit. For some reason he left his boots on. For a second Claire's entire body tensed in reflexive fear but then Achilles sat on his own bedroll.

Once Claire's initial fright passed she was able to stare with lascivious intent at Achilles body. He wasn't as musclebound as Ajax but something about the swell of his muscles reminded Claire of a cat. Achilles was also almost perfectly proportioned.

_Mmmm_,_ he's yummy_, she thought.

Then another voice was in her head, _So one minute you think he's going to rape or kill you, maybe both, and then the next minute you're thinking about riding him like a pony! Let's not even mention how screwed up it is that you just cried. You're messed up in the head, you little bitch._

Claire winced, whenever she mentally whipped herself it was in her mother's voice, and Achilles spotted it even in the relatively dim light.

"What is it?"

"Oh," Claire scrambled for something to say, "I was just thinking... uhm, what were they doing back there?"

Achilles shrugged and turned on his side to face her, "They were having an orgy."

Claire's eyes went wide, "Really? Why?"

Achilles shrugged, "The custom started before we were one people. Shaka and I couldn't forbid sex so we restricted the times The People could indulge. Humans react funny to life-or-death psychological trauma. As long as birth control is used, and a secure location is available, then everyone is free to do as they will. Somehow it became a communal, almost ritualistic, thing."

"Wow. When was the last time?"

"About a month ago?"

Claire's mouth worked soundlessly for a minute before she could say a word, "You've been traveling for over a month? Where'd you come from?"

"That is a story long in the telling," Achilles said, his expression dark.

"Well, I do have that reservation at Spago's."

Achilles grinned, "Fair enough."

The warrior turned and stared at the ceiling for a minute before speaking.

"I was a cashier in a grocery store in Pennsylvania when it started. Some friends of mine, Shaka is the only one here, had thought something like this could happen and we were prepared. We gathered our families and friends at an industrial park." Achilles paused and she could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "We took over the whole place, there were nearly three hundred of us at the time, but the entire state was tearing itself apart so no one noticed or even cared. We raided so many places, even a National Guard Armory thanks to an inside guy, for supplies and guns. We locked the park down when it started getting very unsafe to go anywhere. We had enough food for years and a water tower. It was a perfect place. At least that's what _they_ thought."

This time the pause was longer and Achilles tone grew cold.

"Everyone agreed that there was no way that the zombies would get in and in a few years they would all just rot away. They said we could plant crops if the food situation got bad. We even had a small herd of milk and beef cows. Shaka and I though, had been talking about how dangerous the area was ever since the park was sealed up. There are... were tens of thousands of people per square mile all over that part of the East Coast. We noticed how Risen were attracted to human noise and how they'd follow in the direction of whatever caught their notice until they caught it. Or until something else distracted them. Shaka and I knew that it was only a matter of time before the park was surrounded by _miles_ of Risen with the sole intent of getting into the park and eating us alive. We tried to convince them but it was like talking to a wall. My own parents wouldn't listen to me."

Achilles turned back to Claire and his eyes burrowed into her.

"We gathered ten others that believed as we did and locked ourselves away from the others in a building at the edge of the park. From the end of summer up until the end of winter we trained, we built, and we planned. When the time came, we escaped." Achilles closed his eyes, "It was worse than we thought. The town was filled with Risen. We barely escaped through the sewers to the treatment plant. Days later we were climbing out of the valley when we heard the explosions. We could only assume the park was overrun and everyone we knew was dead."

Achilles opened his eyes but this time Claire didn't think he was looking at her, "We traveled, during the day and mostly by bike, picking up worthy survivors here and there. We killed any that wanted to take what little we had."

Looking into those eyes, Claire could believe it easily.

"Most of the enclaves we've come across have been filled with decent people. Only a few have been run by colossal assholes who think they have inherited the planet. But good or bad, they all have one thing in common."

Now Achilles was looking at her, his eyes glittering with the eerie blue-green light of the room, and she felt uncomfortably aware of what she had done to survive.

"Deep down, no one wants to accept that everything's changed. Civilization as we knew it is _over_. There is no army coming, no miracle will be our salvation. It's up to us to save ourselves and our chosen people. The End Time has come and gone. So now you can lay down and wait to die or you can forge a new destiny from the ruins of the old. To forge one's destiny requires skill, determination, but above all else, it requires an unalterable bond with the truth of one's existence."

"I wanted to go back for my parents, as Shaka wanted to go back for his ex-wife and son, but down that path lay only death and we had an obligation to our people. _That_ was our Truth then and we accepted it. It was not easy, but we did it. I've seen women sell themselves, gladly sell themselves, for the prospect of elusive safety and the comforts of a life they may never have again. I've seen men do the same... and some kill themselves because of it."

Anger crept into Achilles voice, "I have seen the strong prey on the weak and I have slaughtered them only to leave those too weak to accept Truth to die as well. I've watched them be eaten alive and done _nothing_. For they were not People and were undeserving of my sweat, my blood, and possibly my sacrifice."

Achilles ground his teeth as he watched her, "I know what you've had to do, Claire. I can see it in the way you talk, the way you flinch when a man reaches for you, but the way you carry yourself is far different from the two that came down here with you today. You _can_ be strong, Claire. We can help you, but you must choose us. I can be your sponsor, and your trainer, to guide you along the path. We will be here for another day. You have until then."

It took Claire a few moments to think of something to say.

"Where are you going?"

"Texas for now. There are, or were, a few isolated groups of survivors. We'll feel them out but if no one has a solid plan then we're headed for Canada. Then Alaska if Canada is unsuitable.

"Alaska?"

"Low population density. Tough to live there but not having hordes of Risen coming at you every few months is a bonus."

"Did you guys start the mythological name crap before or after you left the park?"

Achilles' face went completely still, "After. I don't talk much, none of The People do, and it has tired me. Goodnight, Claire."

Achilles rolled over until his back was to Claire.

_The Truth of my existence, huh?_ Claire thought as she rolled onto her back. _Well, that's easy. I'm stuck in a small town hotel with a talking ape that likes to be The Man. I have to sleep with him if I want to keep a roof over my head and zombies off my ass. None of the locals, except Daisy, like me and they act like Richardson's been running things for years the way he has for the past year._

The other voice chimed in then, _C'mon, you weak bitch, that's not the crazy bastard's 'Truth' and you know it. Just-_

"I want to kill them _all_," Claire whispered and clamped her hand over her mouth.

_Oh my god! It's true!_ Claire looked over at Achilles' back. _Maybe I'm as crazy as he is._

_Maybe he's not that crazy._


	5. Chapter 5

"Claire Marie," a voice that had grown familiar over the last twelve hours was accompanied by a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

Claire opened her eyes, blinking slowly with newly awakened befuddlement, and yawned widely. It was the first night in weeks that she had gone to bed reasonably full. Achilles was standing over her, his armor and weapons back on, with a grim look on his face. He was kneeling in front of her with a bundle of black cloth.

"There's a Wal-Mart at the other end of town. We're going to secure a route for the Artisan-Laborers. I have to lead a team. You, as my guest, have two choices. You can go back to the hotel, and you will never be allowed back, or you can accompany me."

Claire's head cleared immediately and her bowels clenched involuntarily.

"I'll have to fight?" she managed to squeak from a throat suddenly gone dry.

Achilles shook his head, "I'll post you with my spotter. Artemis will watch out for you."

Before she could really think about the ramifications, Claire was nodding slowly.

"Good," Achilles gave her a small, charming smile. "Put this on. I'll be waiting outside. You can just leave your old clothes here. I'll show you where the bathroom is, then we'll get you equipped."

Claire nodded again and Achilles lay the black leotard in front of her. He left the room and Claire mechanically went about changing while her mind raced.

_What the hell am I doing? They're gonna get me killed. I should just go back, tell Richardson whatever crap he wants to hear-_

_Then what!_ Her mother's voice, particularly shrill this time, shrieked inside her head. _Wait to die on your back or huddled in a corner like the stupid slut you are!?_

_Goddamnit,_ Claire hated to admit how often her bitchy mother's voice was right.

The voice _was_ exactly right though. Claire had come to the conclusion herself on more than one occasion whenever she wasn't being harassed by Richardson or his men. There was no planning in Richardson's little posse about anything other than finding a way to distill liquor. None of the "peons" seemed capable of thinking for themselves anymore. It had amazed Claire how easily cowed they had been.

Claire finished sliding on the leotard and walked out of the room. There were two new guards at the door leading to the roof. Both were women and didn't have the torso armor that the others had. Instead they wore long-sleeved white shirts that looked clingy. They did wear the arm and leg- guards though. Each woman was armed with the weapons the previous guards had wieded. They each had brown hair and eyes with facial features that said they were close relatives.

Achilles led the way past them with a friendly nod, which they briefly returned, and Claire followed him down the stairs. The main space was noisy with nearly everyone going about a multitude of tasks. Three groups of five people each were checking their equipment while the others were doing everything from sewing to sharpening weapons. Achilles headed along the wall to a restroom sign. He waited outside and Claire went through the women's door. The stalls had been torn down and the toilets pulled up. Holes had been dug down to where the sewer line was. There was nowhere to sit and Claire had to squat over the hole.

Of course she had a bad case of the runs, anxiety always played hell with her gut, and the smell was _awful_. She was a shaky, sweaty mess and could barely tear the toilet paper off the wall behind the crap-hole. There was a little bucket of water and a bar of soap for hand washing on the sinktop beneath the long mirror opposite the stalls. The water was already a little murky but Claire clenched her teeth and scrubbed her hands. Once that was done she dried her hands on the towel beside the bucket and walked out.

"You can bathe and brush your teeth when we get back," Achilles said as he walked toward a long table twenty feet to their left.

"What time is it?" she asked, pausing to stare as Achilles held out a bottle of water to her.

"Take it. Little sips to hydrate. Too much will probably make you go again," Claire took the bottle and Achilles answered after her first sip of the lukewarm water. "Around five in the morning."

_Oh, good. Hopefully I can be back when Richardson comes back and avoid explaining._

The table was covered in pieces of the armor Achilles was wearing. He quickly picked out a corset, chest protector, arm, and leg guards for Claire.

"Drink while I armor you. I'll tell you what we call them as I put them on. Pay attention."

Claire nodded and held her arms out so that Achilles could put on the underarmor, the hard leather corset that cinched via straps on the left side. He took a pair of clean socks from a fresh pack and even put those on for her. Then came the chestplate that Achilles had to tie securely. That was followed by the greaves, bracers, biceps-guard, quad-guard, elbow pads and knee pads. Everything but the elbow and knee pads were double-sided and could be cinched tight with straps. The boots were probably the heaviest piece of armor. They looked more like low-top sneakers than boots but she could feel the steel-toe in them. Finally the gauntlets were slid on. She had been right about the hard pieces inside. Whatever they were, they were on the tops and bottoms of each digit. Achilles slowly put on her helmet. She was surprised to find that a mouthpiece like boxers used was stuck to the inside of the face-guard. Once he showed her how to put it on, Achilles clipped it to a spot on the lower back of her underarmor.

A few feet down the wall was a table covered in the peculiar weapons The People used. One half was covered in dented and broken spears as well as the hatchet-things. The other half had two neat rows of spears and hatchet-things. Achilles appraised Claire with a critical eye before he picked up a spear, tested the weight, made a few practice stabs, and then put it down. There were only four choices and, after he had gone through them all, he went back to the very first. Achilles held the spear in one hand while he repeated the process with the hatchet-things. When he finally settled on one, he held the spear point-down towards Claire.

"We call this a spear-club," with a deft twirl the spear's slender, spike of a tip was point-up. "It is good for skull penetration, we made the edges blunter and the point like a railroad spike for that purpose." Achilles turned the spear horizontally and tapped the ball with the rounded part of the hatchet-thing. "It's solid metal, about a pound of it, but that's good enough to crack a Risen's head open. It might not give them the Second Death but they cease to be an immediate threat quite quickly. Here, feel the weight."

Achilles held it out and Claire put down her empty bottle. She gingerly took the weapon from his light grip. It wasn't as heavy as she thought it would be, but it was still a solid weight in her hand. She held the spear-club by the leather-wrapped section that extended toward the club end from halfway up the shaft.

"Step over here," Achilles said, drifting to the corner a little farther down. "Now we'll go through the basic motions."

Achilles unsnapped the strap holding the shaft of his spear-club to his thigh and drew his weapon from its holder. He showed her how to thrust upwards and downwards. The wrapping closer to the tip was thicker to give better penetration power for thrusting. Then Achilles taught her how to swing the club end without stabbing herself with the point. It mostly involved short, vicious, at least when Achilles demonstrated the motions they looked vicious, punching motions with the spear-club held point-down. Once Achilles was done, Claire was covered in a light sheen of sweat. He, of course, looked as fresh as a daisy. He carefully returned his spear-club to his holder and buttoned it into place. Claire followed his example and managed not to gouge herself.

"This," Achilles held out the hatchet-thing. "We call a tomahawk. The blade half is useful for hacking off grasping fingers, hands, that sort of thing. The blunt end will make a mess out of anything you hit with a reasonable amount of force. It's top heavy so, with a careful spin, you can do much more damage than a regular swing."

The tomahawk was definitely heavier than the spear-club. Achilles brief instruction lasted ten minutes, no more than that, and at the end Claire was dripping sweat from her nose. After she slipped the shaft of her tomahawk through its loops, Claire rotated her shoulders and tried to catch her breath. Her tutor stood calmly before her as several people came over to their corner. The only person she knew at a glance was Artemis because she was the tallest woman of the group.

Artemis had a girlish, heart-shaped face that was only slightly marred by a jagged scar on her chin. It was hard to tell what shade of brown her hair was because it was cut so close. Artemis' light brown eyes had that odd intensity about them that Athena's had.

There were two others besides Artemis, a man and another woman. The woman was only slightly taller than Claire but had shoulders like a man and a face to match. She had stony, grey eyes and a perpetual scowl on her face.

_She's probably a raging lesbian._

The man was Artemis' height, maybe a little taller, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. It looked as though he didn't _need_ shoulderpads. He ran a hand over his blonde mat of hair as he stared at Claire with narrowed, blue-green eyes.

Artemis angrily began signing at Achilles, her face twitching every other hand motion, until Achilles clapped his hands together in front of his chest. He pointed into the main floor and signed rapidly. Then he jabbed his finger at Artemis and more sign was exchanged. The last motion Claire knew quite well. Achilles drew his finger slowly across his throat.

To Claire's amazement, Artemis and the other two bowed their heads and pounded their fists against their left breasts twice.

"This is my guest. Her name is Claire Marie," Achilles stepped to the left of the small row they had formed. "You've met Artemis," Achilles walked to the right and gestured to the man, "Orion." Then the woman, "Chun Li."

Claire couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up and immediately covered her mouth in horror.

"I'm sorry!"

The woman shrugged and signed to the others. All four of them chuckled quietly while Claire was left feeling as though she were the butt of a joke.

"Claire Maire," Achilles called to get her attention, "The standard sweep-and-clear of a small structure goes like this. Three beaters go in the house and two spotters post outside. You and Artemis will act as spotters while Chun Li, Orion, and I go inside to clear the structure. Any questions?"

Claire shook her head and Achilles nodded slowly. He gestured for everyone to follow him and Claire found herself at the end of the line behind Orion. There was no pattern to the placement of the group that she could see but when she tried to jog up to Achilles, Orion slapped a palm roughly against her chestplate.

"You are not of The People. Your place is there." Orion spoke in a dry, deep, gravelly voice as though his throat had been damaged in the past.

_Or maybe it's that way because no one freakin' talks around here._

Claire followed Orion's back to the bottom of the stairs leading up to the breakroom. Their group of five was only one of four heading that way. One group paralleled them and Claire saw that Athena was at its head. Everyone had their helmet on but Claire could tell by the bow that Athena was carrying. Voices from ahead drew Claire's attention and she peeked around Orion's back. A small woman stood beside the doorway handing out small backpacks and weird disc's that people were strapping to their forearms.

"What's going on?" Claire whispered to Orion.

The tall man turned just enough to fix the corner of a blue-green eye on her.

"This is where we receive battle-packs and bucklers if we want them. The packs are filled with water, trail mix, and first aid kits. Enough to see you through a day's sweep-and-clear."

Orion answered her quickly enough but Claire got the feeling he was a step away from nearly hating her.

_What the hell did I do to him?_

Orion stepped close to the woman and the freckle-faced redhead asked, "Job?"

"Beater," Orion answered proudly.

"Buckler?" Orion nodded and she handed him what looked like a tarnished steel plate. The woman then passed him a small backpack, "Fight well." Claire walked up and the woman smiled warmly, "Don't be nervous. Achilles will see you right. He hasn't picked anyone since Xena. You should feel blessed! Anyway, you're a spotter, so you get a larger pack." The woman, who looked too frail to do so, lifted the bulky-looking pack with one arm. "Tell me if it's too heavy for you."

Claire slipped the pack on and immediately felt like she was back in high school. Her legs trembled for a minute, she bowed backwards a little, but finally managed to straighten herself.

The redhead smiled and slapped her on the shoulderpad, "Good luck and fight well!"

The others were waiting for her a little way up the stairs and quietly began to march as soon as she rejoined them. They passed the two guards, who gave a solemn, "Fight well," as they went into the stairwell leading to the roof. Claire walked onto the roof and took a deep breath of early morning air. The sky was a variety of shades thanks to the slowly rising sun. The area was eerily quiet and covered in a light fog. The group headed to the edge of the roof and Claire began to panic with sudden realization.

_How am I going to climb down with all this crap on?_

Claire was so caught up in her own thoughts that she was standing in front of Achilles in the blink of an eye.

"What?"

Achilles laughed, "I'll take your pack down." Claire gave a heavy sigh of relief as Achilles took her pack off. "Grab the rope before you get up on the edge. Slide to your belly and ease yourself over. Use your feet. The knots are good on the way down as well as up."

Claire took a deep, bracing breath and did as Achilles instructed. She was halfway to the ground when she had an epiphany.

_Oh my God! I'm enjoying this! Despite it all, I am _really_ enjoying myself for the first time since I was ten. Holy shit! I think I just had a mental orgasm!_

Claire giggled the rest of the way down and kept doing it despite the uneasy glances everyone was throwing her way. Achilles hit the ground and laughed with her.

"Finally realized it, huh?" he asked her, and she was so caught up in the giggles she could only nod, "So, you'll stay?"

Claire sobered up immediately and something that had slept inside her for too long made her straighten.

"Yes, if I survive."

"Excellent. This will be your Initiate Trial By Fire."

Claire nodded, even she understood the implication, "How did you know I would join?"

Achilles shrugged, "It came to me when I first looked into your eyes. In this world, you learn to trust your feelings. Now," Achilles handed Claire her pack, "-it's time to fight."

Claire nodded and slipped on her pack. The rest of the group strapped their helmets on and she followed their example. It was a pleasant surprise that she remembered Achilles instructions so well that she didn't hesitate once. The mouthpiece felt odd and the sides of her helmet cut off her peripheral vision some but she felt safer with the protection. She thought her hearing was diminished by the helmet but not by much. There was some kind of padding in the faceguard that filtered the air she was breathing.

The various groups formed a single line and a figure who's armor had a small patch of zebra print in the hollow of his throat stood in front of them. He looked up and down the line of people before nodding. The man took out his tomahawk and everyone did the same. Claire fumbled a bit and when she finally got her's out she looked up to see that Shaka, she assumed that's who it was, waiting for her. He didn't say anything, not that he really could with the mouthpiece in, and simply pounded the flat of the weapon against his chest. Shaka raised the weapon high and eighteen warriors hit their chests. Claire was a little slow but she hoped no one noticed. Once every tomahawk was in the air, Shaka lowered his in a "follow-me" gesture. His group jogged up to his side and the remaining four fell in behind them.

The road going through town was at the bottom of the hill but to get to it they had to pass a gas station and a McDonald's. The gas station and McDonald's were on a level spot to the left of the downgrade leading to the road. No one gave the places a glance and when Claire turned that way she saw why.

Seven heads stuck on individual, wooden poles stood in a neat row at the edge of the McDonald's lot. There were three in front of the Exxon.

The small army reached the bottom of the hill and turned left. They walked in the center of the road and Claire could feel a peculiar sort of relaxed tension among her group. She just felt like a taut wire that had just been flicked. Without a word, Shaka's group headed to a cluster of old-looking wooden houses on the left. Soon Claire's group was alone on the lonely road and then Achilles pointed to a wooden farmhouse in an overgrown field to their right. Artemis drew an arrow from her hip quiver and put the feathered end against the string as Achilles, Chun Li, and Orion jogged toward the house. Claire, already a little tired from the ten minute walk, lagged behind as they crunched their way up the gravel drive.

The house was two stories, with a little extra for attic space, and a dull white color. It looked like it had originally been constructed of wood but someone had added a brick porch. It was an odd structure to say th least. There was a two car garage about twenty feet to the house's left.

Achilles gestured and they changed course for the garage. They slowed at the sight of an expensive looking SUV that had crashed through the side of the garage and now had it's rear-end protruding from the interior wall.

_Someone must have been trying to get home and lost control... oh...damnit._

There was blood splashed all over the garage. Bits of dried flesh littered the floor and one piece looked as though it could have been an ear. Achilles spread his arms in a shooing gesture and his two subordinates stepped further away. To Claire's amazement he began stomping his boots. She looked over to see that Artemis was scanning the area. Orion and Chun Li were doing the same from their sides of the garage. Claire shrugged and went back to watching Achilles.

During her brief lapse in attention, a zombie had shuffled out into view. It was a big man... or what was left of one. Excess skin hung off it's face and made it look like a hound. Claire couldn't see any bite marks but his clothes were stained with dried blood. His jeans were practically covered in it, as though he had rolled in a puddle, and his T-shirt was a light shade of pink. The man's lifeless eyes fixed on Achilles and he opened his mouth to let loose one of those frightening sounds the undead made. All that came out was a hoarse gurgle because Achilles suddenly had his spear-club protruding from the zombie's neck. Achilles slid forward from his long-thrust position and smoothly spun to smash his tomahawk's blunt-end into the zombie's knee. There was a sharp crack and the zombie listed to one side. That didn't stop it from spinning with an outstretched arm ready to pull Achilles close.

If Claire hadn't already seen Achilles fight she wouldn't have believe what happened next. Achilles sliced the zombie's hand off at the wrist, reversed the tomahawk, and slammed the blunt-end down into the zombie's opposite shoulder. The joint instantly deformed with a sickening crunch. Claire thought Achilles would end it but instead he grabbed the handle of his spear-club and dragged the zombie toward them. He gestured to Chun Li and she strode into the garage with her tomahawk held low to her side. Claire averted her eyes as she caught a glimpse of a badly chewed up little body as it struggled across the garage floor.

Orion grabbed one of the zombies arms and Achilles grabbed the other. They dragged it directly in front of Claire. She cringed as Achilles removed the spear-club with a swift, economic tug. He pointed at Claire with the gore-covered end and then at the zombie.

Achilles spun his spear-club and made a hammering motion.

_Oh my God! He wants _me_ to kill it?_

Claire gripped her tomahawk hard and stared down at the zombie struggling wildly to free itself. The only thing it was really moving was its head and mouth. Achilles and Orion had it in an unbreakable grip.

_Can I do it?_

Claire started trembling as the zombie's face was replaced by Richardson's, then his cronies, then the idiot townspeople, then her high school guidance counselor, and finally her mother.

_No. I hate all of them, but that's not what I'm going to do this_, Claire opened her eyes, she didn't even remember closing them, and stared at the zombie's face, _You took my _life_! As shitty as it was, it was still _mine_!_

Claire raised her arm and whipped the tomahawk down. The zombie snapped at her and she sliced its nose off. With a muffled growl, she reversed the tomahawk and rammed it forward into the oozing stump that had been the thing's nose. Thick, congealed blood flew everywhere, the zombie's head snapped back, and the hole in its neck grew wider. Claire raised the tomahawk and smashed it down as the zombie's head rolled forward. The blow connected with the top of its head and blood splattered everywhere as Claire felt the skull cave in. It was like bashing a watermelon.

The zombie began to twitch but Claire kept hitting it. When Achilles and Orion dropped the faintly twitching body, Claire began stomping on what remained of its head. Finally, when the zombie's head was unrecognizable chunks of bone, flesh, and brain, Claire stopped. She stood, panting around the mouthpiece, and felt an unexpected surge of exhilaration.

The others were watching her and when she stopped panting they gave her claps on the shoulderpad. Achilles pounded his chest with his tomahawk and raised it. Before she could do anything, Achilles, Chun Li, and Orion were headed for the farmhouse. Artemis waved her arm at Claire and followed them.

_That's seriously messed up_, Claire thought as she glanced at the carnage she had wrought. _Oh, well._


	6. Chapter 6

Claire Marie sat in the middle of another gravel driveway, this one within view of the local Wal-Mart, chewing on a handful of the jerky-flavored trail mix. Orion, Artemis, and Chun Li were sitting behind her, facing the opposite direction, with their weapons within range of a quick grab. Achilles sat in front of her, his armor thickly-coated with sludge-like blood and bits of flesh, teaching her about Warrior-Hunter Sign and terminology.

He flashed his fingers at her, "Meaning?"

Claire swallowed her mouthful slowly and thought for a moment before she spoke, "Risen. Changed."

"Threat level?"

"High?"

"Why?"

Claire grimaced, "Whoever the Risen had been, got bitten but managed to escape. They crawled somewhere and the virus Changed them into Risen. So their muscles are relatively undamaged and that makes them a lot stronger and faster than they used to be."

Achilles nodded, "Very good." He flashed another sign, "And this?"

"Devoured. They got chewed up really badly when they were alive. Threat level varies depending on how badly they got swarmed."

Achilles nodded, his lips quirking upwards in a near smile, "Very good, Claire. I-"

Achilles stopped talking and turned his head with a smooth, deceptively fast, motion that made Claire think of a lion catching scent of a deer or whatever the hell lions ate. The top of someone's helmet appeared at the steep drop-off where the driveway met the main road. Claire didn't recognize the person but their armor was liberally splashed with blood. They carried a spear-club in their right hand and punched their chest with it when they screeched to a halt before a slowly rising Achilles.

"Achilles," the woman paused to pant for a second, "Shaka requests your team's presence at the primary objective as soon as you clear this domicile."

Achilles placed a gentle hand on the messenger's shoulderpad, "We have already cleared all of our objectives. We will rush to Shaka's detachment. Rest here, Paige."

Claire and the others were finished tidying up their impromptu picnic area when Achilles turned back to them. She handed him his pack and seconds later they were jogging up the road together. The heat coming off the asphalt was stifling and Claire was having a hard time breathing through her nose but she didn't complain as the rest of the group kept up with Achilles relentless pace. Soon they were turning left, like a small flock of birds, and entering the Wal-Mart's parking lot. It was a relatively small lot, the Wal-Mart wasn't a supercenter, but there were dozens of cars scattered haphazardly inside. Some of them had crashed into trees or other cars. The team passed through the maze, Claire tried not to look at the long smears of dried blood on more than a few windows, towards where Shaka was waiting with a number of other Warrior-Hunters. Scattered around the perimeter were pairs of Warrior-Hunters studying the area with bristling intensity. Claire took a glance at the front entrance and her heart skipped a beat when she saw that the doors had been completely blocked by tall metal plates of some kind.

"Achilles, glad to see we've lost no one so far," Shaka said, his voice was dry and rough.

_Probably from all the screaming._

"The day's not over yet, Shaka," they clasped each other's bracers, "What is going on?"

Shaka spit to one side, "The parking lot had about a dozen. I called up bow-snipers and then we found the plates had been welded into place. Or bolted. It's hard to tell." Shaka turned back to the Wal-Mart, "Anyway, we already knew about that but what no one knew is that Wal-Mart's don't have upstairs offices of any kind."

Achilles grunted, "Roof access?"

"There's a caged ladder in the back," Shaka answered, "We're going to have to do a two-pronged strike. I'll put bow-snipers up top and have them rip out the roof vents or hatches or whatever they can to get lines of fire in there. I'll send in a twelve Warrior detachment with you in command, Achilles. The snipers won't be able to get them all. I'll meet you around back when you get your team together.

Shaka slapped Achilles on the shoulder and jogged towards the left side of the store.

"How come he didn't use Sign?" Claire whispered to Chun Li.

Chun Li replied in the same tone but that was natural for her, "None of the People are deaf. Alexander taught American Sign Language before the Day Of Rising. Some of us, those trying to learn, tend to use it a lot but mostly we use it only in unsecured areas."

Claire nodded and grinned as Achilles rattled off a list of names and the other three team leaders jogged off to collect those that would be needed for the assault. Achilles gestured for his team to follow him and led them around the lefthand corner of the building.

"Claire, you will post guard with Shaka. Artemis, you're on the roof. I'm taking you two with me."

Claire nodded along with the others and a small knot of anxiety melted away. Of course that left the moon-sized ball of icy dread that was always there but she could deal with the familiar feeling. Artemis pounded her fist on her chest and jogged along the wall to disappear around the back. Quickly, the other members of Achilles chosen arrived. They all wore their helmets with their faceguard's up so she only recognized Ajax out of the group. She was almost positive that Xena was in there somewhere.

Shaka and four Warrior-Hunters stood patiently in front of a garage-door type shutter. There were raised sections at intervals down the wall that had similar shutters. The back of the Wal-Mart was fifty feet, maybe more, from a steep hill. There was a low concrete wall along the perimeter but the tall grass seemed vaguely menacing. Apparently Shaka thought so too because one of his men was keeping a close eye on the hill.

Shaka came forward, gesturing with his arm high, and Claire looked up to see someone's shadow disappear as they scrambled out of sight. Seconds later, a muted screech of metal made everyone around Claire tense. Even Achilles posture stiffened slightly.

"Claire," Achilles gestured to a spot near the rear guard.

Claire looked at Achilles and was surprised at how suddenly fearful she was for him, "Be careful."

Achilles nodded, "As I can be."

Claire nodded back and walked past Shaka to stand next to the imposing bulk of a guard. Her skin felt wet, sweat-slick, and hot at the same time. There was a bit of a breeze blowing along the alley but the body armor prevented her from getting even a little relief. None of the Warrior-Hunter's seemed to feel it so she resolved not to show her own discomfort.

Shaka spoke to Achilles again while the rest of the group tightened their armor straps, or readjusted them, and armed themselves. Ajaz passed his big sledgehammer to Shaka , only to hold up a shorter hammer whose head was just as big. The rooftop messenger appeared and waved twice before disappearing. Shaka saluted the group with his tomahawk before jogging to Claire's side. He didn't acknowledge her presence as he wheeled around to watch one of his Guard's jam the edge of a crowbar beneath the shutter. Two heaves and there was a sharp crack. The Guard raised the shutter with the crowbar until he could use his hand without bending.

It was nearly pitch-black inside the Wal-Mart's back room. The light from outside illuminated a small space but the rest was lost in gray-black gloom. Out of the darkness lurched a zombie that lunged at the Guard with a screech. The Guard spun away from the grasping arms and swung the crowbar like a short baseball bat. The metal cracked the zombie's skull wide open, she could see the splatter from where she stood, and it stumbled forward completely off-balance. Achilles jogged past the zombie but swung his tomahawk in a wide loop that caught the zombie in the back of its already pulverized skull. The zombie slammed facefirst into the asphalt and didn't even twitch as the group surged over it. When the last was inside the Guard slid the shutter back down. The man... no, it was a woman, walked unhurriedly back to Shaka. She slid the crowbar into a holder on her shinguard a few feet in front of Shaka.

They waited.

Claire had thought waiting in line at the DMV was intolerable but this was far worse. Her mind began to conjure horrible images of Achilles being swarmed by zombies as she stared at the shutter. She had no idea how much time had passed before the heavy silence, broken occasionally by the cries of wild animals, became too much.

"Uhm," Claire unlatched her faceguard after quietly clearing her throat. "Excuse me, sir, but why do you have those marks on your throat?"

Shaka turned to her and stared with wide brown eyes. His faceguard was hanging loose at the right side of his jaw but he remained silent as he gazed at her. Claire's skin was beginning to itch just before he spoke in that rough voice of his.

"This," he ran a thumb across the pattern at his throat, "-means that you have been trained by me or by one of my Trainers. It means that you are one of The Guard and also what rank you hold." Claire nodded, her eyes uncontrollably opened wider as she fell into Shaka's gaze. "Only Warrior-Hunters, Leaders, are allowed to have Training Marks."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?" Shaka's head reared back as though he was unused to unprompted questions.

"Why are only Leaders allowed? And why do you need them at all?"

There was another moment of silence as Shaka once again gave her a penetrating stare.

"It's a matter of pride, I suppose. At first we were the only ones who could teach _anyone_ our way of close-combat. As we gathered people it became necessary for us to let chosen pupils train Initiates. Shaka actually chuckled as he glanced at the shutter door. "It all started with Xena. Achilles and I developed the two-handed fighting style. Xena took to it like a fish to water. Rivalry started between her and Julia, who was Alexander's star pupil in the tomahawk-and-buckler style, and the rivalry spread to the other Initiates. Eventually Alexander and I came up with the Sparring Circle to let them prove who's teaching methods were better. Now its become its own beast and none of the Leaders have much control over it. The Artisan-Laborers like the competition among the Initiates anyway. It gives them something to take their minds off of things."

"How many People are there?"

"You're very quick, aren't you, Initiate?" Shaka nodded respectfully at her, "Far more than you've seen."

Claire returned his nod, "If Achilles is the best fighter then why doesn't he have a Mark."

Shaka shrugged, "Originally it was because we came up with the fighting style together. But Achilles, and now Xena, have put their own mark on it. Xena uses a more passive style, like Tai Chi or something. Achilles' could be called passive-aggressive. He looks small, weak, but he'll come crashing down like a goddamn tidal wave if you're not careful." Shaka visibly shuddered, "Xena could be a Leader and has already been given a Trainer Mark but she won't take an Initiate until she feels her own training is as complete as she can make it. Achilles just hasn't seemed interested in choosing an Initiate or even helping train any since Xena. Well, until you."

"Why does everyone keep _looking_ at me like that!?"

Shaka started as though he was unaware of the hungry look he was giving her, "My apologies. Has anyone explained to you just how Achilles got his Warrior-Hunter name?" Claire shook her head, "When the original group was preparing back in Pennsylvania, Alexander and Hannibal made a bet that Achilles couldn't learn their fighting styles since he was so small. He and I were thinking up small-unit tactics and better ways to make lightweight body armor. Achilles not only learned their styles, he beat them in sparring matches, and convinced me to help him develop our tomahawk and spear-club style. None of us ever came close to beating him in anything except grappling. Even then only Alexander can beat him." Shaka crouched to remove a water bottle from his pack and took a long drink.

"There are maybe a dozen Guards who use my style. Which is far more aggressive than Achilles. The rest have rudimentary training but most go for the tomahawk-buckler style. It is possible to have dual Marks but if you're not proficient in your Trainer's style, then you don't receive the full one. Anyway, Xena is our star pupil, and I think her training'll only be complete once she beats Achilles, but I did most of the technique work with her. Achilles is a little intense, eerie even, and he always said that the Initiate he took would make him look like a leopard compared to a lion. Hell, it's become something of a prophecy."

"You've got to be shitting me," Claire croaked, "I'm short, skinny, and I've thrown a total of two punches in my life."

Shaka shrugged and the shutter door slid upward to reveal a blood-covered Ajax. His faceguard was unlatched and dried blood stained his chin. He waved them forward and waited while they jogged toward him.

Sign passed between Ajax and Shaka as they entered the Wal-Mart. Brilliant beams of light came from little tubes clipped to the shoulder straps of everyone's pack but Claire's. The backroom was liberally splashed with blood but only a few zombie bodies. Claire walked in the back of the group as they walked down a short hall and into the store. They emerged somewhere near the electronics sections. Wide lances of sunlight from rough-cut looking holes in the ceiling made the store bright enough to see but just barely in some places.

The smell was gut-wrenching. A combination of shit, rotted meat, and a compost heap left out in the sun. Claire gagged noiselessly as Ajax led them to where a similarly blood-covered Achilles stood next to Xena as they stared at the blocked exit.

No, they were staring at the floor where-

Claire retched, bending over with the pain, and croaked, "Bathroom-"

"I got her," Achille's voice accompanied his hands on her back and elbow as he led her away.

Someone, Xena she thought, barked laughter, "Some phenom."

Achilles led Claire to the bathroom and waited outside while she puked in a dry toilet. There was no water to help absorb the smell so she backed away quickly.

Something clamped onto Claire's ankle hard enough to arrest her momentum. She fell backwards and hit her head on the stall door. Stars burst in her head and, nearly simultaneously, something foul-smelling bit into the top of her helmet.

_Goddamnit!_

Claire raised her other leg and kicked the heel down into the head of the thing that had her shin gripped in its teeth. It worried her leg after the first hit and Claire felt something snap in its jaw after the second. She kicked it off her leg, but felt it grab the shinguard with a hand. Claire reached up and tried to grab the zombie biting her head by the throat. Unfortunately it couldn't resist the target her hand made and it latched onto the appendage.

Claire let out a moan of pain as the bones in her hand were compacted by the pressure. Nothing was broken... she hoped, but it _hurt_. Claire slipped her spear-club from its holdings, tilted her back, and stabbed the bastard through the neck. She angled the thrust towards his brain and could barely believe it when the zombie flew off her as though she were suddenly electric. Slimy, disgusting fingers gripped her helmet by the cheek-flaps and what had once been a nine-year old girl snarled as she opened her broken mouth to bite Claire.

Claire rolled over, grabbed the zombies head, and slammed it into the floor. She began grunting, definitely not like a nice girl, as she pulverized the zombie's skull into the tiled floor. When the zombie stopped twitching she looked up to see Achilles watching her.

"I got bit," she admitted reluctantly.

Achilles knelt and examined her hand, "We don't wear these dumb gloves for nothin'."

Claired laughed and hugged Achilles tightly.


	7. Chapter 7

There _were_ a lot more People than Claire had seen.

That was obvious when a group of twenty Warrior-Hunters arrived to guard the Artisan-Laborers as they pilfered whatever they could from the Wal-Mart. A man, almost as big as Ajax, was handed the command of the operation by Shaka. Achilles had informed her that the man in question was Alexander. Claire spotted pairs of Warrior-Hunters on the roofs of houses as Shaka's force trotted back to the Home Depot. Groups of Artisan-Laborers waved to them in greeting as they pushed wheel barrows and carts down the road. The sun was high and beat down on them with oppressive heat but everyone seemed very cheerful.

All of Claire's cheer evaporated when Achilles team came within sight of the Home Depot.

Boss Richardson and six of his cronies were standing there glaring at Athena. The slim girl had her signature grin on despite the profanity that was undoubtedly pouring out of Richardson's mouth.

_He won't recognize me in my armor. I can just walk right by him._

Claire ducked her head to do just that but Achilles grabbed her elbow and headed right for them. She managed to unlatch her faceguard but not before they had reached Boss Richardson.

"What the fuck do you want?" Richardson snarled, turning in their direction.

Achilles removed his faceguard, "It's okay, Claire Marie."

Claire's mouth twitched into a small smile when Richardson's eyes bugged out of his head as she bared her entire face.

"What the hell did they do to her, Boss? She's covered in blood!" Jake said, his forehead wrinkling in disgust.

"I can see that, stupid motherfucker!" Richardson spat out of the corner of his mouth without turning his increasingly narrowed gaze from Claire. "I thought I told you to come back in the morning. A man's hospitality only goes so far, you know."

Claire's mouth worked but nothing came out. Achilles put a hand on her shoulder and suddenly Richardson wasn't so terrifying.

"I'm not coming back."

Now Richardson's eyes really bulged in their sockets. His complexion reddened so fast that Claire thought he would start whistling.

"What?"

"She said she's not coming back, Boss," Rick said, thumbing his thick moustache.

"I heard what she said, goddamnit!" Richardson's face was nearly purple. "Don't worry, bitch, I know just how to fix this problem."

Claire held her ground as Richardson reached out to grab her by the throat. Before his hand moved more than a few inches, Achilles had grabbed it by the wrist and his spear-club's point was nestled in the hollow of Richardson's throat. All of Richardson's men had shotguns and all of them were pointed at Achilles in seconds. Athena had an arrow nocked and sighted at Jake's chest before the man got his shotgun up. Then the entire little confrontation was surrounded by silent Warrior-Hunters with bloody weapons clutched in hands well-versed in their use.

"Claire Marie has made her choice, _Boss_ Richardson," Achilles said, his voice quietly earnest. "Go back to your hotel. Live out your life as best you can but she is now an Initiate of The People. Her life is no longer yours."

Richardson swallowed and glared at Achilles, "That bitch has been eating our food and drinking our water for months! She owes us!"

"You bastard! I think I paid enough!" Claire took a step forward, stopped, and looked at the tomahawk clutched in her fist in puzzlement. She didn't even remember taking it off her armor.

"You really think I'm afraid to die," Richardson asked, sneering down at the shorter Achilles, "You think I'm afraid of your little knives? My dick's bigger than that thing!"

"Even if you could beat us," Achilles shook his head slowly, "-the noise would attract all of the Risen in the next town. This place would be crawling within a week. Is that what you want? Also, the punishment for killing one of the People is either slow impalement or DBR, which stands for Death By Risen. That's when we chop your arms and legs off. Make sure you live just long enough for a Risen to start eating you. Guts first usually." Achilles lowered his spear-club and stepped right up into Richardson's face. He had to look up but Claire didn't think that really mattered. "So ask yourself one question, _Boss_. Is it worth it?"

The blood had drained from Richardson's face and he looked white as a sheet. Claire thought that Rick might have pissed his pants.

"What's slow impalement mean, Boss?" Jake asked, sweat thick on his brow.

Athena giggled, "It's where we lay you down and shove a nice, thick, pointed pole up your ass, through your guts, and out your back. Very, very slowly. We have to cover your mouth up most of the time, but when we have an indoor place with thick walls we let you scream. Man, it's enough to make your balls shrivel up. If you have balls. Hey, remember that guy in Maryland? How long did he scream?"

Someone in the crowd answered, "Thirty seconds. Continuous. Right until we pierced one of his lungs."

Now Claire was sure that Rick had pissed his pants and it looked like the rest weren't far behind.

Richardson snarled, "Fine, take the bitch! Her cunt's all used up anyway!"

Richardson backed away, turned, and stomped through the gap that the Warrior-Hunters had left in their line. As soon as Richardson and his men were out of sight, the Warrior-Hunters dispersed without a word. Athena waved to them and climbed up a rope to the roof.

"Come. We have to pass the Rite Of Entry before we bathe."

Claire followed Orion up the rope and was so anxious about standing naked in front of total strangers that she was at the top before she realized she had managed with the pack on. It was a lot lighter now but she was amazed she was capable of the feat. Claire was sweating and her muscles felt a peculiar sort of wobbly but she wasn't dying. A small smile of accomplishment graced her face as she followed Achilles and the others down the stairs and into the breakroom. The guards said nothing to them and only gestured for them to stand in line for the Rite of Entry. They came upon a scene that was almost identical to the one last night except that Ajax and Athena had changed places. Claire turned away instinctively but Achilles gently lifted her chin up.

"Nudity is something you will have to learn to become accustomed to, Claire Marie. It happens a lot among The People."

Claire nodded and looked straight ahead at Athena's naked body but her eyes kept going out of focus. It was like she had no control over her own body and it was annoying.

_Focus, damnit! I can look at another woman naked without being weird about it!_

Slowly her eyes began to focus better and she saw that she had been right about Athena's breasts being only slightly larger than an A-cup. They were pert little things though. Her abdomen looked tight enough to bounce a brick off of. Both arms and legs were corded with muscle. Something dark and slightly raised was on her left shoulder. Claire craned her neck and gasped quietly. It was a brand of the letter W.

"What's that on her shoulder, Orion?" Claire whispered.

"Part of her Warrior-Hunter Mark. You get that once two Leaders deem you worthy of becoming one."

"She's fine," HawkEye said, and Athena did a little skip before turning to retrieve her armor. "Next."

Athena moved off closer to the door to the office to change, but she didn't go inside. Achilles stepped into the circle and held his arms out to the side. HawkEye quickly began to remove his armor and a couple minutes later Achilles was totally naked.

_Wow! I thought his penis would be a lot bigger! It's only three inches! Maybe he's a grower. Okay, stop thinking like that, damnit. He's supposed to be your Trainer, not your fuckbuddy. Not yet._

Claire's nervousness grew as Achilles was replaced by Artemis, then Chun Li, and finally Orion. Orion was almost done when Achilles came back to her side.

"Don't be nervous, Claire. No one will touch you inappropriately. Just breathe and everything will be fine."

"What if they know I was bitten?" she asked, sweat beading between her breasts.

"Then you would be shot twice. Once in the chest and then once in the head while you were dying. Honor, duty, sacrifice are inherent parts of being one of the People. This Rite Of Entry is only good for Initiates who we are unsure of. Most of the seasoned Warrior-Hunters would tell of confirmed bites in the field and be dealt with by the team leader." Achilles patted her on the shoulderpad, "But you weren't bitten. Only bruised. So don't worry."

"Next."

Claire stepped into the ring of light and her knees nearly buckled when she raised her arms. HawkEye was a cute teenager with startlingly blue eyes and chubby cheeks.

"So," she spoke as she removed Claire's armor, "You're that new Initiate, huh? Achilles' Initiate, too. Goddamn. I almost squirted when I heard that."

The girl's vulgar commentary totally distracted Claire, she couldn't even remember or hear most of what the girl whispered, and she was standing naked before she realized. She had to resist the urge to cover herself up as the relatively cooler air of the breakroom caressed her sensitive nipples. HawkEye circled her and stopped at her left hand. She didn't touch it, just brought her face so close that Claire could feel the heat of her breath.

"And what the fuck happened here?" HawkEye said, her voice sharp.

Claire looked to Achilles, who simply nodded, and took a bracing breath, "I got bitten. It didn't penetrate my gauntlet."

HawkEye nodded and stood to her full height, "She's fine. Next."

Claire moved into the office as another team began the Rite of Entry. She replaced her armor and backpack with Achilles' assistance before they moved back down to the main floor. The Artisan-Laborer who had given her the pack was waiting for it at the bottom of the stairs. She took it with cheerful wink and a shooing motion.

"Hey, Achilles," Shaka jogged up to them with two Artisan-Laborers behind him, "I talked to your prospect and I figured we might as well get through the Rite of Initiation as soon as possible. What do you say?"

"Claire Marie?" Achilles turned to her, "Are you sure you want to do this? Once you do, you will be one of The People and, as you have seen, we do not live a safe or peaceful life. Would you like more time?"

"No, Achilles. I know what I want. What do I have to do?"

"Just repeat after me in front of these witnesses." Shaka opened up a notebook and began to recite, "I, Claire Marie, have observed the Path upon which The People tread. I have seen the Truth of what being People means and it is with whole heart that I accept the responsibilities that come with that Truth. From this day onward, I will put the well-being of The People above my own personal safety, above my feelings, above the safety of my loved ones. I will put the welfare of The People before those things and those things above the concerns of all Others."

Claire Marie repeated the Leader's words and a strange tingling sensation spread through her fingers.

"I, Claire Marie, am now of The People. Always and forever."


	8. Finale

"Maybe I made the wrong decision," Claire moaned as she sank gratefully onto her sleeping pallet in the upstairs office.

Achilles chuckled as he began to remove his armor for the night, "Most Initiates think that after their first day under Shaka's iron fist."

Claire had finally gotten clean for the first time in..., longer than she cared to even recall, by bathing in a small creek. Her disgust at the possibility of stepping on a slimy streambed, having fish wiggle on her ass, or being contaminated with sewage was overcome by the stench of her own body. Her embarrassment over being naked in front of others hadn't faded so the bathing was done far faster than she would have liked. Achilles had sped up his own bathing in order to stay with her.

In the woods she had seen the primary encampment of this Clan of The People. Claire's eyes had nearly burst from her skull at Achilles' revelation that there were three Clans of approximately a hundred individuals traveling along the same route. Alexander's Clan, containing the fiercest Warrior-Hunters, scouted the route and made it more secure for the following Clan's to follow. Hannibal's Clan followed at a distance of fifteen miles or so and stayed in contact via horseback messenger. Memnon's Clan trailed fifteen miles behind Hannibal's and was where most of the new Initiates were sent for their conditioning training. Apparently Claire would be staying with Achilles and forced to endure the tortuous training regime of any Warrior-Hunters looking to become a member of Shaka's Guard.

The primary encampment had been an eerily quiet, fireless affair that Claire would probably have passed by if not for the people moving silently among the trees. Here was where the bulk of the Artisan-Laborers slept and worked until it was their turn for a night inside the Home Depot. A dozen mules were used to bear whatever equipment was too heavy for a person to carry on a forced march and a pair of horses for messengers. Achilles had given her a brief tour of the encampment, introduced her to a few of his Artisan-Laborer friends, and let her eat some of the smoked venison from the previous night.

Then it had been back to the Home Depot where Shaka was calmly waiting for them in his bodysuit. Achilles had taken Claire's armor, telling her he would clean it for her just this once, and then given her over to Shaka's torture. The man was a demon and had pushed her, as well as prospective additions to his Guard, through a relentless regime despite the fact that they had all seen at least some fighting earlier. There had been a mile run, another aerobic exercise that Shaka called sprint-jogs, rope climbing, jump rope. Claire had been surprised that there was only a little strength training involved. Shaka had nodded in appreciation of her question when she asked before explaining that, unless you were monsters like Ajax and Alexander, mature zombies would still almost always be a little stronger than a normal person but with training they could never be as coordinated, fast, or agile.

It made sense but it hadn't made Claire like him any better.

Once Shaka's PT class was over, Achilles had let her grab some stew before handing her a handgrip and telling her to squeeze while he started teaching her People hand-code. By the time that was over Claire could barely wipe her own ass when she used the bathroom or grip the bowl she ate her dinner out of. But, finally, she had been allowed to lay back and maybe get some rest.

"Tell me something, Claire Marie," Achilles voice came softly across the dim room, "Why were you out here during The End Time? You don't sound like you're from around here."

Claire blushed furiously, "I was moving to California."

"Really? Why?"

"Uhm... well, there was this guy I met on the Internet and he said that he could get me into a couple of porn movies. I figured it was either that or waste away in the middle of fucking Maryland," Claire couldn't believe she was admitting this.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Just graduated before The End Time, huh?"

"Yeah. My guidance counselor was a real bitch and actually told me to my face that I had a choice between being a stripper and a prostitute with my GPA."

"Really? Did you report her? Because I'm thinking that's something she should have gotten fired for."

"Uhm," Claire's face burned furiously.

Sometime during the day, probably during one of her brief conversations with a panting Shaka-victim, she had started looking up to Achilles as though he _were_ some kind of superhuman demigod. Would he turn away in disgust when she admitted the things she had done?

_Ha! I think you could tell him you've got a three-foot cock and used to fuck squirrels with it and he wouldn't bat an eyelash. Look at you funny and laugh but probably not bat even half a one._ The inner voice that was her own fairly cackled with laughter in her head and, strangely enough, it made her feel better.

"Well, I fucked the guidance counselor's husband and the principal's wife, at the same time at some college kid's party once. We were all high and I didn't remember until some fucktard posted a video all over the schools website. So let's just say that neither one was very happy with me after that."

"Heh," that was how it began, "You've... got to... be shitting... me!"

Achilles laughter thundered in the room and one of the door guards came running into the room. Achilles waved her off and rolled on his bedroll clutching his sides for at least a minute. Claire joined in halfway through, from sheer relief, and even cried a little as she remembered how her mother had reacted.

"So," Achilles said once he stopped laughing, "I guess you liked to have freaky sex."

The grin he gave her made her insides throb but she somehow managed to resist the urge to leap on him.

_Okay. The fact that everything, including my vagina, is achy probably helps resist that particular urge._

"Well, not really. I was just really stoned that night and they took advantage. I'd had sex maybe three times before that with a guy that was really good but we broke up when he moved away. My ex-boyfriend was the one that took me to the party _and_ put the video on the school's website. Those were the only two punches I ever threw but they were good ones."

That set Achilles to laughing again and Claire laughed just as hard. It helped Claire's burgeoning hero worship of the man simmer down some, seeing him roll around like a little kid on his sleeping bag, but not the boiling desire to straddle him. She shook her head and reined herself in as his laughing tapered to a stop.

"How old are _you_?" she asked, wanting to know more about her mysterious benefactor.

"Oh," Achilles face scrunched in concentration, "I'll be twenty-three this November. I almost forgot how old I was for a second. There's not really been much time for birthday celebrations."

"Yeah," Claire agreed with a nod, "Did you have a girlfriend back home?"

"For awhile, back when I was going to school to be a chemical engineer. She was far hotter than I was and she knew it. When I got all weird and philosophical and stopped going to college, she called me a loser and started dating somebody who was in pre-med. I quickly came to the conclusion that she was looking for someone who was going to get rich in order to marry him and suck him dry." Achilles chuckled, "After that, I started getting really spiritual. Mostly Buddhism, some progressive Christian stuff, even read up on Mormonism. So, yeah, wasn't really interested in girls overmuch."

"What about now?" the words were out before Claire could stop them.

Achilles grinned, "I spend pretty much every waking hour, fighting, training, running, or thinking of ways to make myself a better Warrior-Hunter. I'm dedicated to becoming the best fighter I can be so there's little room for libido. You want to know something dirty?"

Claire found herself returning the grin, "What?"

"I haven't masturbated or had a wet dream in almost a month. We usually encourage guys to masturbate at least once a week so they don't give the Artisan-Laborer semen stained underclothing to wash and I hold the record for holding it the longest. Of course, I'm probably due up soon."

_Don't say it! Don't tell him you could help him with that!_

"That's kind of gross, Achilles," Claire grinned and stuck her tongue out at him.

Achilles face turned serious, "How many times have you been raped, Claire?"

Claire swallowed and her grin faded as well, "Well, I wouldn't call it rape. I wasn't physically forced."

"You know what I mean."

"Uhm... I don't know. At least twice a week."

"Have you had any symptoms?"

Claire shook her head, she knew exactly what he meant, "They use condoms with me because I'm not local. They did the same for Rachel before-"

"Let me guess," Achilles voice grew deeper and rough, "She refused, wasn't local like you, and didn't think they'd actually throw her out."

Claire nodded, "Jay, her ten year old son, got thrown out too and it was the middle of winter. We found their bodies huddled at the bottom of the hill beside the hotel in the spring." Claire choked back a sob. "After that I knew that Richardson wasn't afraid of killing anyone that stood up to him. The locals thought they were safe but he beats them like slaves when he feels like it. I think he picked women who he knew would take the abuse because they all act like it's the most natural thing in the world to have men beat them. So, I did what I had to do to survive. I'm not proud of it, but I'm alive."

Achilles sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was sobbing loudly in seconds and had her head buried in his chest. A little bit later she felt something wet on her cheek, looked up, and saw tears sliding down his eyes as well. When she looked up she involuntarily flinched because Achilles face was a mask of barely contained hate and madness. His eyes were too big, too dark, and looked like they belonged on some kind of demon.

"Why are you crying?" she asked slowly.

"I want to kill them all. The locals for being weak and Richardson and his men for being cowards. But I can't because it would endanger The People. So I cry to release the emotion before it becomes toxic. It makes me deal with it better afterwards."

"They're not all weak. There's this one woman named Daisy who tried to take care of me." Claire sat up straight, "Hey, do you think she could join The People? She's older but I think she could be an Artisan-Laborer."

Achilles turned to her, his tear-streaked face an emotionless mask, before shaking his head, "I'm sorry, Claire Marie. But there can be no more contact with those Others except for delivering offerings of deer to keep them bottled up."

"Why?"

"It's too dangerous. We learned early on that taking people from enclaves of Others was a good way to get into a fight. Sometimes we can absorb entire groups if their situation is really bad but mostly we take one or two people that seek us out. People get very strange, possessive even, over those they've sheltered for over a year in close quarters."

Claire ducked her head and took a deep breath, "Okay. I understand."

"Good," Achilles squeezed her shoulder and stood to go back to his bedroll, "Goodnight, Claire Marie. Rest well, because tomorrow we start your technique training."

"Goodnight," Claire said, but all she could think about was how nice Daisy had been to her.

Claire felt like she was abandoning the woman.

* * *

Claire shifted in the bushes surrounding the little garden she and Daisy had planted behind the hotel. Sneaking out of the Home Depot had been far easier than it should have been. She had only dozed lightly and, maybe an hour before dawn, she had got up and said she wanted to go for an early morning bath. The guards had opened the door without a word and she was running for the hotel in minutes. She knew that Richardson and his men didn't keep a close eye out this early so she was confident no one had seen her sneak around to the back.

Now she just had to wait for Daisy to come out and give the plants their early morning watering from the snowmelt they had collected for just that purpose.

She must have dozed because Daisy's back suddenly appeared in front of her. The woman's dirty floral-print dress and light blue blouse were unmistakable.

"Hey," Claire whispered, "Daisy!"

The woman stood up in a flash and looked as though she would run back to the hotel in a second.

"It's me. Claire." Claire said, not edging out of the bushes. "Come on! The People _are_ crazy but at least they don't beat you. Not all of them have funny names and fight the zombies. Trust me."

Rough hands snatched her from the bushes, scratching her through the body suit, and she found herself face-to-ugly face with Kyle. The man's piggish face wrinkled in a sick smile as he ogled her. Claire smiled back... and head-butted him right in the nose. Kyle dropped her with a squeal as blood gushed from his nose to coat her breasts. He dropped her and Claire kicked him in the balls.

"Run, Daisy! Get to the-" Claire turned to Daisy and the last thing she saw was the water pail rushing toward her face.

* * *

Consciousness came and went several times during the following hours. The first time was when everyone in the hotel had taken turns kicking and beating her. Even the kids kicked her. She had finally lost consciousness when someone connected with her solar plexus. The second time she had pulled herself up from the darkness to find Kyle's taped-up nose an inch away from hers as he raped her. She had tried to fight but someone had been holding her down. The excruciating pain in her vagina let her know that he wasn't the first. Kyle had wrapped his hands around her throat and blackness had quickly followed. Claire awoke once more when she was being forced to drink someone's piss and threw it up all over herself. She had blacked out when the person had socked her in the jaw.

Claire opened her swollen eyes and saw that she was bent over a table at the barricade in front of the hotel. She was naked, sweaty, and everything throbbed but what brought a pained grunt to her face was the sight of Achilles watching her with the same tear-streaked expression she had seen on his face the night before. Richardson stood in front of and a little to the side of Achilles with a shit-eating grin on his face. Achilles was backed by Orion, Chun Li, Artemis, Athena, Shaka, and surprisingly, Xena. None of them had their weapons out but, and Claire couldn't be sure because her eyesight kept going in and out of focus, they all looked as though they wanted to tear Richardson apart. Several of The Dirty Dozen stood at the barricade with shotguns trained on Achilles' group.

"Achilles," Claire croaked, and stiffened as she felt a hand grip her hair hard.

Someone's penis started probing at her naked butt but it didn't lower to penetrate her vagina. An uncontrollable grunt issued from Claire's mouth as her rapist penetrated her rectum.

"As you can see," Richardson said, "Claire's decided to enjoy our hospitality a little longer. So you crazy fucks can go back to wherever you came from without her. Unless you want to start a little dance and have those... Risen things crawling all over this place. Ain't that how you put it?"

"Look at 'em crying like a pussy, Boss," Claire was stuck in her own private hell as her insides were viciously pummeled relentlessly so she had no idea who it made that ignorant comment.

Achilles took a single step forward but Shaka's hand held him back. Instead Achilles drew his spear-club and held the point at Richardson.

"Mark this day well, prey, for you have few of them left."

Richardson laughed, " Shut the fuck up, you little pussy, and get the fuck outta here."

"All of you who are listening," Achilles went on as though Richardson hadn't spoken, "Know that on this say your lives became forfeit because of the wrong done to an Initiate of The People. I swear that you will all die by my hand." Achilles fixed Claire with glistening, dark eyes and she forgot all about what was happening to her, "Remember, you are Claire Marie, of The People, always and forever. I will come for you."

Achilles spear-club against his chest, raised it in salute, and then turned away.

_Don't leave me!_ Claire screamed mentally as tears flooded her eyes.

_Please don't leave me._


	9. Epilogue

Claire woke to thunder and screams.

The battered woman did not move as thunder shook the hotel over and over again. She was in a pitch-black utility room on the third floor, for easy access Richardson had said, and laying on a bare cot. Time had no meaning in the dark, so she measured it by beatings, feedings and rapes.

"I am Claire Marie, of The People, always and forever," she repeated to herself for the thousandth time as the screams faded in and out.

Now the harsh crack-crack of rifle fire was drowned out by the earsplitting chatter of some kind of automatic weapon and it was getting closer.

The door burst open, spilling harsh and blinding light onto Claire's cot, and Richardson stood framed in the door. He was pointing something at her.

"That crazy fuck's not going to get you!" he screamed and then jerked as a hand pulled his head back.

Someone pushed him into the room and closed the door behind them.

"Oh god! My legs! I can't feel my legs!" Richardson moaned in the darkness.

A glow stick, at least a foot long, was suddenly thrown across the room. Several more were thrown until Claire at last could see who had sank the knife deep into Richardson's lower back.

It was Achilles.

"Achilles," Claire moaned, struggling to rise but found she didn't have the strength.

Achilles didn't look at her as he tied Richardson's hands together. He was dressed in black, tactical gear of some kind, with...

_That can't be a grenade launcher strapped to his chest._

Some kind of automatic weapon dangled from his left shoulder and a handgun rested in a holster at his hip. It was definitely not something she would expected from The People's greatest warrior.

_Well, maybe that's why he is._

Now Achilles was bending over her tapping a syringe. He stuck it in her arm and seconds later time started moving right again.

"Achilles," Claire clutched him around the shoulders tightly and didn't even flinch when he returned the pressure. She knew that he would never hurt her. "I knew you'd come for me."

"Always," he said, "Can you move?"

"Yeah," she said, surprised that her body didn't hurt, "What did you give me?"

"A little epinephrine/painkiller combo that someone cooked up. We've got gear and a mule waiting outside. We've got to move fast. I think I killed everyone but some of them might be hiding. They won't last long when the zombies get here though. I blew four or five holes in the damn building." Achilles turned to stare down at Richardson. "But first, what do you want to do with him?"

Claire gazed down at Boss Richardson as the man glared up at them through the pain and the blood that he was always so glad to inflict on others.

"Too bad we don't have anything to impale him with."

Achilles grinned and unslung a duffel bag he had on his back. He quickly twisted together a seven foot tall spear with a wicked looking point.

"You were saying."

"Uhm, now it's my turn?"

Achilles and Claire both laughed as if it were the funniest joke ever uttered by a human.

Boss Richardson began to sob.


End file.
